Dream of the Red Chamber: From a Border Ruffian to a Capital Tyrant

At Yanmen Pass, the sky was clear and blue.

On this day, the sky was a deep, clear blue, without a single cloud. The breathtakingly clear blue poured down on the majestic fortress without reservation, yet beneath that ultimate tranquility lay a bloody storm that was about to engulf the world.

Inside the council chamber, the air was so heavy it seemed as if water could drip from it.

Jia Ren and a group of senior generals gathered around the sheepskin map, their brows furrowed in a deep frown, engaging in a final struggle to resolve the current impasse.

Just then, a series of chaotic and hurried footsteps abruptly shattered the deathly silence in the hall.

A young scout, covered in blood, stumbled in, his expression one of utter panic. He had even forgotten his manners, and his voice cracked as he roared:

"Report! General, something terrible has happened!"

"The Xiongnu wolf cavalry made a move, and the entire army mobilized, rushing towards the pass like dark clouds pressing down on the city!"

These words struck like a bolt from the blue; the council chamber fell into a deathly silence, and the temperature plummeted to freezing.

Jia Ren's sharp gaze, which had been fixed on a pass on the map, suddenly contracted to pinpoints upon hearing this report. He sprang up as if propelled by a spring, his voice booming in shock as he asked:

"What did you say?!"

"Where are those barbarians now?"

The scout remained kneeling on one knee, swallowing hard a mouthful of saliva that tasted of rust. Fine beads of cold sweat seeped from his forehead like rain, sliding down his cheeks. He dared not raise his head, and replied in a clearly trembling voice:

"Qi... Qi reports to General Qi, the vanguard of the Xiongnu army, who are now twenty li away!"

"Da, da, da..."

In this suffocating silence, a rhythmic tapping sound stood out starkly.

Jia Lang sat upright to one side, his slender fingers rhythmically tapping the armrest of the grand master's chair, each tap seeming to strike the hearts of everyone present.

Wang, the military officer standing to the side, could no longer contain his terror. His face was ashen, and his voice trembled like a leaf in the wind as he asked, his voice trembling with sobs:

"General! The imperial reinforcements are still over a hundred miles away... what should we do?"

Jia Ren took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the surging blood in his chest, and tried to remain as calm as a mountain.

"Defend! Defend to the death!"

"Reinforcements will arrive soon. If we hold out here like nails until today, it will be a victory... But if we can't hold out..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone present knew the devastating consequences of his unspoken words. The day the city fell would be the day all its soldiers and civilians perished—a day of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, leaving no one alive!

"Order! All personnel prepare for battle and follow me to meet the enemy!!"

Jia Ren suddenly pulled the command arrow from the table, slammed it to the ground, and roared in a deep voice.

"Yes, sir!"

The generals roared in unison, a desperate cry from those facing certain death. Then they turned and rushed to their respective defense zones with a tragic, irreversible momentum.

Atop the city wall, a fierce wind howled.

Jia Lang stood like a javelin at the top of the rampart, his eyes fixed on the Xiongnu cavalry that surged across the mountains and plains like a black tide, three miles away.

His right hand gripped the heavy iron hammer tightly, his knuckles turning white from the excessive force, but he was completely unaware of it.

Feeling his heart pounding wildly in his chest like a war drum, Jia Lang felt an unprecedented surge of heat rush to his head.

Strangely, apart from the surge of excitement deep within his soul, he felt not a trace of fear.

Looking at the overwhelming enemy army, he felt an uncontrollable desire, like an ancient beast that had been imprisoned for a long time, finally smelling the scent of blood and about to break free of its cage!

"Heroes are forged in times of chaos. In this life, I'm ready to unleash a bloodbath!!"

Jia Lang roared wildly in his heart, his eyes burning with a fierce flame called "ambition" and "determination".

"Archers—ready!"

Jia Ren stood in the center of the city tower, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly at his waist, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, his eyes cold and stern as if they were made of ice, and he shouted in a stern voice.

"Archers, prepare!"

"Archers, prepare!"

The orders were relayed like ripples, with each messenger's eyes red and their steps hurried, as if they were running on the edge of life and death.

Eight hundred steps!

The outline of the Xiongnu people was already clearly visible; it was a black torrent that could destroy everything, rolling in with an aura that could devour heaven and earth.

Five hundred steps!

The suffocating sense of oppression was overwhelming, as if an invisible mountain was pressing down on the hearts of every soldier, making it difficult to even breathe.

Three hundred steps!

The howls of the Xiongnu, like those of wild beasts, could already be faintly heard; they were a thirst for blood and a frenzy of slaughter.

Two hundred steps!

On the city wall, countless hearts pounded violently, weapons were gripped so tightly they were burning hot, and fingertips turned white from the force.

One hundred and fifty steps!

The air seemed to freeze, and the tense atmosphere was like a barrel filled with gunpowder, ready to explode at the slightest spark.

One hundred steps!

"put--!!!"

As Jia Ren drew his longsword, a chilling light pierced the sky—a signal of death.

"Buzz—!"

The bowstring vibrated like thunder, and countless wolf-tooth arrows instantly soared into the air, transforming into a black cloud that blotted out the sky, shooting towards the heavens with sharp whistles, and then falling like a meteor shower.

"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"

The ear-piercing sounds of flesh being pierced filled the air, and the Xiongnu cavalry at the forefront fell like wheat being cut down by an invisible scythe, men and horses tumbling and falling to the ground in droves.

In just one volley, hundreds of Xiongnu wolf riders perished.

However, these Huns seemed to be madmen who knew no pain and were unafraid of death, and despite the rain of arrows, they still frantically urged their warhorses to charge.

The agonizing cries of their fallen comrades did nothing to slow them down; instead, they fueled the ferocity in their bones. Their bloodshot eyes were fixed on the city wall, their only desire to break through the gates and tear everything in front of them to shreds!

"Kill them!"

"roar--!"

Amidst another deafening roar of battle cries, the vanguard had already stormed to the city walls. The madness and cruelty in their eyes were almost overflowing; it was a greed for wealth and women.

"Clatter..."

A slight, unusual sound reached Jia Lang's ears.

He frowned and turned around, only to see a young Qian army soldier terrified by the hellish scene. His spear fell to the ground, and he collapsed against the battlements, staring blankly at his trembling hands, as if he could already see his death.

Just as Jia Lang was about to reprimand them, he caught a glimpse of the same fear in the eyes of many soldiers around him.

Their bodies trembled slightly, and their grip on their weapons loosened, a deep-seated fear etched into their bones of the saying, "The Xiongnu are invincible if they number less than ten thousand, but if they number ten thousand."

If we approach this battle with such fear, we are destined to lose!

A hint of worry flashed in Jia Lang's eyes, but it was instantly replaced by an even more fervent determination.

What are you afraid of?

The Xiongnu people were also made of flesh and blood, with two shoulders supporting one head. If they were hit by a hammer, their brains would splatter, and if they were slashed by a knife, they would bleed profusely!

They are not gods, but a bunch of uncivilized beasts!

Since words cannot awaken courage, let us use blood to commemorate the spirit of the army!

"kill!!!"

Jia Lang said no more; he needed to ignite the fighting spirit of these sheep in the most direct and violent way.

He raised his heavy iron hammer, weighing about 100 jin, and charged like a tiger descending a mountain towards a Xiongnu barbarian who had just poked his head out.

"die!"

With a loud shout, the heavy hammer slammed down with a whooshing sound.